Boys Don't Cry
by Dramamamapwnsall
Summary: In which Maya and Cam learn that life and love are two delicate, fragile things. -"I look at the last sentence again. Not we're over, but it's over. I'm over."- I would tell you that I loved you if I thought that you would stay, but I know that it's no use, that you've already gone away.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: If I owned Degrassi, would my baby really be dead right now? NO!**

_I would say I'm sorry  
If I thought that it would change your mind  
But I know that this time  
I've said too much  
Been too unkind_

_I would tell you  
That I loved you  
If I thought that you would stay  
But I know that it's no use  
That you've already  
Gone away_

**Campbell POV**

"I'm not coming. Sorry. It's over."

My eyes blur as I read the words I've typed. I'm about to hit send. How could I have done this to her? Get her all wrapped up in the psycho that was me? Zig was right. I am crazy. The team deserves better. They didn't deserve some nut-job who only got them in trouble, and lost games for them. My family deserves better. They deserve a son who can get an NHL contract and _not_ screw it up. But most of all, Maya deserves better.

"Maya..."

Maya. How could I have been so selfish, so _fucking selfish_ to get her wrapped up in the crazy mess that was my life? How could I have put her in the middle of all this?

She's going to leave soon anyways. Zig is right. She's just too good, too perfect for something so screwed up as me. She deserves so much better. She doesn't deserve some crazy guy who gets _fucking suspended _for fighting just because he couldn't calm down enough to accept that she was fully committed to him, or that he should trust her.

My breath is getting short. I'm sitting against the side of the school, just around the corner from where I was supposed to meet her. I hug my knees to my chest. I look at the last sentence again. Not _we're _over, but _it's _over.

I'm over.

My fingers tremble as I press send.

I walk towards the garden. That's where we'd had one of our first dates, our first almost-kiss. That's where I'm going to kill myself.

I pull out a notebook and rip out a sheet of paper. I should leave a note. I should give them some explanation.

I should give _Maya _some explanation. But I can't think of anything to say.

I spend a while thinking about what to write (What is there to say about suicide? No explanation will ever be able to capture the hurt and pain), until, finally, I scribble something down, set in on the counter, and look around for something to use. A hose... No. No, that image has always freaked me out. Someone finding me, dangling, inches above the ground.

I reach for a pair of garden shears.

**Maya POV**

"I'm not coming. Sorry. It's over."

It's over?

It's _over_?

He's breaking up with me?

_What?_

I rest my head in my hands. How could he do that? Last night... Last night had been perfect. We'd just been happy, and laughed, and...

And maybe it was too much. Maybe it was the shirt fiasco all over again. Maybe he felt like I'd moved it too fast. Maybe he was uncomfortable with it.

I have to find him. I have to explain...

Explain what? Explain that last night was pretty much the best night of my life?

Nothing physical had happened, but that sense of emotional intimacy, of feeling so close, and so happy...

I would never be able to recreate that. That moment of quiet between us, when I'd looked at him and he'd looked at me, and in a flash of understanding, I knew that I loved him.

I didn't say that, of course, it had only been about a month and a half, but... Oh, God. Did I talk in my sleep?

Maybe that was it. Maybe he heard me talking in my sleep, and I said I loved him, and he realized I was crazy and decided to break up with me.

I swipe away the tears in my eyes, and stand. Lunch is almost over, but I'm not going back to class.

I begin walking towards the green house. I'll be alone, Jake and Katie have both been avoiding it since they broke up.

I pause at the door. I hear someone moving around. "Hello?"

"Maya?" The voice is choked up. Someone's crying.

I push the door open a bit, before something stops it.

"Don't come in."

"Cam?" I push again, until it finally pops open, moving whatever thing was trying to jam it.

The thing is Cam's foot. He's trying to push it closed, while he sits slumped against the wall. His sleeve is rolled up to his elbow, and there's a pair of garden shears in his hand. His arm... Oh God.

_I would break down at your feet  
And beg forgiveness  
Plead with you  
But I know that  
It's too late  
And now there's nothing I can do  
_

_Now I would do most anything  
To get you back by my side  
But I just  
Keep on laughing  
Hiding the tears in my eyes  
'cause boys don't cry  
Boys don't cry  
Boys don't cry_

**So, because I am of the mentality that the Degrassi writers are fucking sadists, I've decided to pick the road that they should have gone down with Cam: Attempted suicide. Maya finds him and helps him deal with the consequences. If anyone reading this is suicidal, please talk to someone, and get some help. It's not a road you want to go down, believe me. **

**Anyways, I'm hoping to deal with a lot of stuff that the show alluded to regarding Cam, but never focused on fully. I want to bring his anxiety issues into light, and I also want to explore his home life. Having such a big responsibility at such a young age obviously caused him to have some major self-image problems, as he never felt he could live up to it.**

**And, just a heads up, this story is rated M for a reason. One, because I am not going to sugar-coat depression, and two, because, from the promo, Maya goes a little nuts too, and I want to incorporate that.**

**I swear, if the Degrassi writers are expecting us all to jump ship and join the Zaya fandom, they've got another thing coming. This is still my OTP, and the only way I will continue watching the show is if I have my AU to keep me going.**

**Finally, the lyrics at the beginning and end are from The Cure's "Boys Don't Cry". Look them up, they're flipping awesome. Please R & R!**


	2. Chapter 2

His arm is a mess of cuts and blood. Criss-crossing lines all up and down it.

I distantly register the bell ringing. He lifts his head up to look at me, his brown eyes tear-filled.

"Please just go away," he whispered softly.

I silently thank God for the first-aid class I'd taken in middle school. Deep cuts. You apply pressure to stop the bleeding. I slip my sweater off and wrap it around his arm. It's not much as far as bandages go, but it's better than nothing. The blood seeps through almost instantly.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay." I tie the arms of the sweater together so that it's tight against the inside of him arm.

"No... Don't. Please..." I pull him up, ignoring his protests.

"Just lean on me, it's okay."

I see a drop of blood drip down his hand, and choke back a scream.

"Maya, leave me alone."

"No, it's okay... It's okay..."

I keep my hands wrapped around the sweater, applying pressure. We walk out of the greenhouse, him leaning on me.

"Maya... I don't want to..."

"It's okay, Cam. It's fine." I reach into my pocket, and pull out my phone. I need an ambulance.

And my fucking phone is out of battery.

"Where's your phone, Cam?"

"Don't... Don't call anyone. I don't..."

I don't have time to fight with him over this.

"Cam, give me your goddamn phone."

"It's in my bag. On the other side of campus. Don't tell anyone, Maya, please don't tell."

I look around for someone, anyone who can help. But everyone is already in class. I finally spot Becky and Adam walking to class.

"Adam! Adam, help!"

They turned towards me. "Maya? What's wrong?"

I pull Cam towards them. "Maya, I don't want them to find out..."

"It's okay, we can trust Adam," I tell him. It's true. Adam and I aren't close, but we've hung out a few times with the rest of the band. And it's not like I have many options here.

"Maya, what's going on?" Adam walks up to me. "What's wrong?"

"Do either of you have your phones?"

"Mine is in my locker." He tells me.

Becky comes over too. "What's up?"

"Your phone. Please."

Becky shakes her head. "My parents took it from me. Wh-why is that sweater bloody?" Her eyes are wide, and she's pale.

"We need an ambulance."

"Don't tell, please." Cam's practically crying. "Please don't let everyone find out."

"Do either of you have a car? We need to get him to a hospital." I clutch Cam's arm tighter, and he leans on me. I think he's about to pass out.

Becky digs in her pockets. "Luke let me drive to school today. But I've got to get it back before school ends." She finally pulls out a set of keys.

She turns to the parking lot. I'm so glad that she's going along with it, and not asking questions. If she started talking about missing class right then, I would have smacked her.

Cam takes one step, then stumbles. Adam sees, and wraps Cam's non-fucked up arm around his shoulder. "C'mon."

We get to Becky's car, and Adam helps me get Cam into the back seat, then moves to the passenger seat.

Becky's knuckles are white, clenched around the steering wheel as she pulls out of the parking spot.

Cam leans against me, his face pale. "Okay, Cam, what's your blood type?" I ask, hoping to get all the important information in case he passes out.

"Uh... O. I think."

I nod. "Any health issues, or allergies? Aside from being lactose intolerant?"

"Not that I'm aware of..."

His head is lolling to the side, and his eyes are nearly shut. I gently pat his cheeks. "No, no, Cam, honey, stay awake for me please."

"Don't let them find out. The... The team. They'll be so disappointed. My Dad... My Dad will be so disappointed."

Becky chokes back a sob, and Adam's turned around in his seat to watch us.

"It's okay Cam. Everything is going to be just fine."

"I... I'm sorry I'm such a screw up."

"Cam, don't say that. Please don't say that."

His eyes are shut, his breathing is slow. And Becky pulls up to the curb outside the emergency room.

Adam and I pull him out almost instantly. "I'll find a parking spot, and I'll be right in," Becky says, and I'm glad she's not staying, because she looks like she's about to puke.

We haul Cam into the building. A nurse comes over and yells for help. He's whisked away to a hospital room, and I'm left with a nurse asking me questions.

"What's his name?"

"Cam- Campbell Saunders."

"How old is he?"

"Sixteen."

"Have you got contact information for his parents?"

"No."

"Do you know if the wounds were self-inflicted?"

"Well, it sure as hell looks like it."

"Do you know what may have caused him to do this? Anything that might give some insight on his mental state?"

"No... No, he just asked me not to tell anyone."

"You did the right thing, getting him here." I nod, and wrap my arms around myself. She pats my shoulder, then turns towards the next crisis on her hands, already forgetting about me.

After she walks away, I realize that I'm about to throw up. And I run to the bathroom, because it's a hospital and I don't want to make them have to sanitize everything all over again, and I'm bent over the toilet, and I realize _ohgodthisiswhatkatiedideveryday_, and I curl up in the corner of the stall and I cry, and I scream.

I'm not aware of much during my cryingandscreaming jag, but suddenly I register that someone's patting down my forehead with a damp paper towel, and someone else is sitting by me, hugging me, and I've soaked through their shirt with my tears, and I look at the faces, and they seem so familiar, but I can't remember them at all, and I realize that I'm not breathing.

The absurdity of the moment hits me, right before the voice in my head takes over. Dizzy, disjointed thoughts clank around in my mind. _You have to breathe, or you'll die._

_You have to breathe, or you'll die._

_You have to breathe, or you'll die._

_You have to breathe or you'll die._

_You have to breathe or you'll die._

_You have to breathe or you'll die_

_You have to breathe or you'll die_

_You have to breathe or you'll die_

_You have to breathe..._

_Is Cam breathing? _

_Or right now, is there an empty, lifeless, leftover Cam in this very building? _

_Is he cold yet? _

_Does he regret it?_

_Was it my fault?_

_Could I have done more?_

_Why did he do it?_

_Did he ever love me?_

_Is he dead?_

_Is he dead?_

_Is he dead?_

_...Or you'll die._

**I like it, I don't care of you do. If you complain about me being slow to update, then get used to it, honey. I'm way too busy, I've got finals, standardized testing, final projects, job applications, SATS, and so much more. Don't even... I mean, God, you have no idea.**


End file.
